Roses and Rainbows
By: Emily Khym
When I was seven, I used to:
paint the sky rainbow until the clouds became
my favorite raspberry gummy drops, engraved pearls I could call home,
search for cracked rosewood and lace shells of empty
promises father would swear his pinky close.
I became eleven, a digit out from
ten—odd and alone. My father had gifted me
five and a half paper roses to
crumble in my rainbow trunk. Raspberry, he
would exclaim, it’s the color of a raspberry!
At fifteen, I received my first love letter decorated
with patchy tares of cupids and roses. It’s still in the
bottom of my magenta bag, because I
didn’t believe in love, only
a sky of stars that could paint me rainbow.
Now, I’m but an oval moon of roses and
pearls, a sort of half spewn rainbow in
a thundering sky.
paint the sky rainbow until the clouds became
my favorite raspberry gummy drops, engraved pearls I could call home,
search for cracked rosewood and lace shells of empty
promises father would swear his pinky close.
I became eleven, a digit out from
ten—odd and alone. My father had gifted me
five and a half paper roses to
crumble in my rainbow trunk. Raspberry, he
would exclaim, it’s the color of a raspberry!
At fifteen, I received my first love letter decorated
with patchy tares of cupids and roses. It’s still in the
bottom of my magenta bag, because I
didn’t believe in love, only
a sky of stars that could paint me rainbow.
Now, I’m but an oval moon of roses and
pearls, a sort of half spewn rainbow in
a thundering sky.
Writer's Statement: Emily Khym is a 16-year-old junior attending The Loomis Chaffee School in Windsor, Connecticut. In her free time, when she is not writing, she enjoys listening to music, playing the flute, and going on long runs. She is currently preparing her writing portfolio for university and was recently accepted to Juniper, Sewanee, Kenyon and Iowa Young Writers Camp. Her poems have been published in Daphne, Inlandia, Elevation Review, Elan, and West Trade Review literary magazines.